


And To All A Good Night

by confusedkayt



Category: Pacific Rim (2013)
Genre: Found Family, Gen, Neuroatypical buddies and the parties that tax 'em, Peacetime parties, holiday fluff, maybe background Herc/Stacker
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-01-16
Updated: 2017-01-16
Packaged: 2018-09-17 21:04:17
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,487
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/9344591
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/confusedkayt/pseuds/confusedkayt
Summary: Written for sailershanty/sailerscrimshaw in the Pacific Rim Holiday SwapAfter the Apocalypse is cancelled, the leftover Shatterdome crew are still together, tying up loose ends and keeping an eye out for world security.  Now, though, there's time for holiday parties.  Maybe too much time - the high-tech tree and Menorah might be a little too festive.  Still, holidays are for food, fun and family.Featured prompts include:  favorite characters Newt, Hermann, and Mako; stargazing; fairy lights





	

**Author's Note:**

  * For [BugTongue](https://archiveofourown.org/users/BugTongue/gifts).



The thing is, the techs got a little _too_ into it. It’s… treelike. Tree-adjacent? More or less cone-shaped, anyway, but those branches look like they’ve got razor edges and the red lights are kinda ominous and it’s more than possible that the tree is sentient and kinda colluding with the Menorah, and yeah, that thing is _definitely_ sentient, and getting a little frustrated, maybe, because hardly anybody notices that it’s trying to talk to them and for a bunch of people who pretty much psychically bond themselves to robots nobody seems to know binary when it’s blinking right at them with steadily-declining good cheer. Is it even cool that he talks to it, honestly, Hermann was no help at all and like it was that offensive, really, to ask his _very best friend_ who _happens to be Jewish_ if it’s cool if he talks to a probably-alive piece of Jewish religious paraphernalia and honestly, maybe it’s no wonder they are kinda terrible at celebrations that don’t involve killing something enormous stone dead. It’s all a little _religious,_ anyway, and that’s kind of weird, too, but Newt’s not exactly Mr. Sensitivity and even he knows there’s no going back to the Flying Spaghetti Monster feasts of his MIT days when there’ve been dismembered tentacles and more industrial vats of dinner spaghetti than even the quants cared to count.

At least they have the “feast” part down, or he hopes they have and his odds seem good because Mako’s throwing the party and where there’s Mako there’s Raleigh and that guy can _eat_. Hermann had better be there already. He's not in the lab and he's probably not enough of a dick to ignore the amount of pounding Newt had done on the door of his quarters and, sure, yeah, Mako’s his friend but Hermann’s his _friend_ and it’s still a little weird to get used to people smiling at him after the last couple years, ok? Like, he’s invited and he’s pretty sure it’s a please-actually-come invitation - Mako’s not the sneaky-jerk sort and fine, maybe he's a little nervous that she’s gonna give him that murder-face when she opens the copy of Skip-Beat! he got her but it’s _good,_ ok, Newt’s been obsessed for _years_ and he’s not a girl so that’s probably fine. He wrote that in the card, right? Hopefully Hermann didn’t cross that part out.

Anyway. He’s late and it’s gonna be fine and you can hear the party from here and probably nobody even noticed he isn’t there yet. Except maybe he’s wrong about that because Hermann glares at him when he makes his way into the swing of things and is he wearing a gift wrap bow on his jacket while he tries to kill Newt with the force of his evil eye alone?

And then there’s an arm around his shoulders and hey, whoah, hello there. “Newt, my man!” Tendo’s a little drunk already, maybe, but at least it’s _Tendo,_ even he is clutching a bag of those giftwrap bows in his free arm.

“Up top!” he hollers anyway, best he can over the vintage pop blaring over the speaker system and huh, a high five feels weird through a bunch of ribbons. He intercepts Tendo’s attempt to pin one on the front of his shirt. “Nuh-uh. I need _epaulets,_ ” he shouts, and goes for the really big awful gold ones, one on each shoulder. “I’m Michael Jackson!”

Tendo snorts at him, but in a nice way. “Yeah, you’re bad.”

“You know it,” and there’s that drunk grin again and then Hermann’s at his elbow. The usual frown’s there, yeah, but he kinda leans against Newt to let him know he doesn’t really mean it.

“I thought you might be on time to a party,” he grouses, which is totally unfair because….

“Dude! I was looking for you!” and that’s the uncertain side-eye, so that got through, then.

“I came by your quarters,” and god, Hermann can be stiff when he wants to be, and Newt’s not gonna let him be the Grinch that stole Hanukkah.

“Probably when I was looking for you in the lab, uh, guess I should’ve just e-mailed or something, but hey, here now!” That’s more-or-less neutral face, which is probably good as it’s gonna get. “You want a beer?”

“It’s warm now,” and god, he’s a grumpy bastard, but a grumpy bastard that got Newt a beer, apparently, because he is the best bro and Newt tells him so just to get the 999th version of the “I am not a _bro_ Newton” lecture which is, like, bizarrely comforting for the both of them at this point, to be honest.

The mess table in the center of the room has got a ton of presents on it and they make their way over, more or less. He was kinda planning to give his to Mako directly, but she and Herc are standing over in a corner all quiet by a chair with a familiar coat draped over it and he’s not about to barge into that, at least not after Hermann gripped onto his forearm with the pinchy strength of a thousand crabs. He’ll just ditch it and make sure she got it later or something. Once he drops the thing, Hermann gets all shifty - weight going back and forth and his uncomfortable-emotions face and wow, yeah, did not see that coming. “Merry Christmas, Newt,” he mutters, eventually, and pulls something out of one of his big-ass pockets. A dvd - old skool - and it’s homemade, too, by the look of it, Hermann’s crazy-cramped handwriting on it. It reads _Godzilla [1954] - Gottlieb restoration_ and wait, whoah, no, it can’t be.

“Buddy!” he hollers, and Hermann gives him that fake-sour look.

“Now, perhaps, you will stop complaining incessantly about the ‘total war crime that is the colorized version’,” and, yeah, no, this is awesome and Hermann is awesome and Newt is suddenly very, very glad that he bullied the kitchen guys into letting him make that homemade batch of hamentashen on top of the frankly cool-as-shit flight simulation game he modified and left on Hermann’s chair in the lab because he’s kind of a gift-giving chicken, who knew. Maybe he’s looking a little misty or something because Hermann gives him kind of nervous look and he’s babbling, almost, or like, Hermann babbling, which more or less amounts to muttering really rapidly about how he hadn’t done much, just a little rendering to wipe the worst of the spots out of the background and Newt’s gotta put him out of his misery. He throws his arms open and waits for the go-ahead but good ol’ Herm does him one better and rocks right into the hug and even squeezes for a little bit before straightening right back up and away. “Yes, well, happy Christmas,” he mutters and, wow, yeah, Newt just loves the dude.

They kind of make the rounds a little but Hermann’s totally fraying around the edges and hey, parties are supposed to be fun and so what if he spends most of his time with the guy. It’ll still be going when they get back. “Wanna take a break?” and he totally hollered but Hermann didn’t hear him which, yeah, not a good sign. He reaches out and squeezes Herm’s elbow and he kind of startles which, yeah, no, roof time. “Let’s grab some air or something, ok?” and this time Hermann nods, a little too quick. It takes forever to wade through the crowded room and out into the hallway but from there it’s pretty quick to the elevators and it’s nice and quiet and never let it be said Newt can’t shut up, at least when Hermann’s practically vibrating out of his skin like this. It’s a pretty warm night but the roof’s clear, anyway. They plop down in their usual spot and it’s nice, kinda, to just breathe and look at the stars and listen to the weirdly loud rustle of Hermann’s giant coat. They haven’t been out there for _too_ too long when Mako slips out the door and takes a seat next to them. Hermann nods at her and it feels weird, somehow, to break the silence so he just kind of throws her a thumbs up and hey, great, that got a smile at least. It’s weird to think that the three of them used to do the same damn thing when Mako was just a kid and they kind of had to watch the sea as well as the sky. Things change, but not that much - not the good stuff, even if they kind of lost it for a little while there. Family’s familiy. Sure, he misses it - the sheer thrill of bleeding-edge science, the excitement and the pressure, even, the noise and the work and all of it, really. But this - there’s something to be said for peace, too.


End file.
